When The Cat's Away
by The Crownless Queen
Summary: ... the mice play. In this case, the cat represents the seven children Molly and Arthur have. They're finally all at Hogwarts, and yes, some of that makes them feel slightly lonely, but it also lets them catch up without any risk of interruptions. For Lexi.


**When The Cat's Away**

The Burrow is quiet without the children around. It's not like Molly didn't expect this, of course, not like she didn't prepare herself – last year, alone all day with only Ginny had been as amazing as it had been exhausting, but it had helped her realize just how much she relied on her children's presence to keep her days full.

This year, Ginny is gone too, off to Hogwarts with her brothers, and the Burrow is quieter than it has ever been before.

Molly manages to keep busy though.

She catches up on reading she's been putting off for years, practices household Charms she never got a chance to try before until the house is spotless – or as close to it as it can get after being home to seven rambunctious children – and experiments with new recipes.

She knits on evenings before Arthur gets home and sometimes on afternoon too, taking advantage of the warm autumn afternoons for as long as she can. Soon, the weather will turn too cold for that, but for now she takes her chair, her needles and her yarn outside, and she starts on knitting the sweaters she'll send her children this Christmas.

But even with how much she manages to fit in her days, there are still many moments when she finds herself feeling slightly lost, moments where she can almost hear laughter coming from the bedrooms above or footsteps running up and down the stairs.

Sometimes, she turns to chastise the twins when she hears something fall and break, only to realize that it was just the wind or the object's own precarious position.

Sometimes, she starts calling Percy down for dinner out of habit – coaxing him out of his room to eat can sometimes be difficult – before remembering that he's at Hogwarts, and it's been years since he's spent more than his holidays home.

The hardest part is remembering that Ginny and Ron have left for school too. She has the same problem every time they send one more of their children to Hogwarts, and Molly is aware that Arthur sometimes faces the same struggles as her, expecting their children to greet him when he returns from work and only finding her instead.

There's always a fraction of a second where he not quite stumbles before he remembers, just like Molly finds herself reaching out with her spoon to have Ron taste her new recipes only to abort the movement at the last moment, or trying to show Ginny a new kind of stitches only to remember that the only click of needles comes from the ones she's holding.

Of course, not everything about the children's absence is a source of heartache.

Some things that come of it are pretty good.

"When was the last time we managed to have such a quiet evening to ourselves, just the two of us?" Arthur asks her one night at the end of dinner after the third time he almost startles, expecting to be interrupted in his attempts to get closer to his wife by either one of the older boys pulling faces or their youngest begging for attention.

Molly blinks, surprised to find that she actually needs to think about it.

"It has been quite a while, hasn't it?" She laughs, a fond smile on her lips. "Merlin, I don't think I can remember the last time we stayed home for a quiet evening together."

Indeed, with the children, they had mostly gone out, either to cheap restaurants in the nearby village or simply to wander around, walking underneath the starry sky until their breath fogged in the crisp night air, giggling like teenagers on an adventure on more than one occasion.

"I'm sorry I haven't been home much lately," Arthur says apologetically, his eyes guilty.

"It's really not that," she reassures him. She doesn't mention that the money he earns through his long hours is surely needed – they both know it, and now isn't a moment to be ruined by talks of such thing.

Arthur's face clears up, a fond look replacing the guilt on his face. "Ah yes, the children do seem to like getting in the way," he jokes.

"That they do," Molly confirms, and amused smile on her lips. "They're getting more imaginative about it too – honestly, Fred and George should know that there are only so many times we'll believe one of them is choking on what he's swallowing., and there really is only so much of Percy's talk about his Prefect badge I can stand in one night."

"He did talk about it a lot," Arthur comments, reaching for Molly's hand.

"And strangely, always when you made some move toward me," Molly retorts, moving to sit beside Arthur. "What did they think, that I wouldn't notice? I'm their mother, for Merlin's sake, they should know better by now!"

"I did notice that, yes," Arthur laughs, wrapping one arm around Molly's shoulders, tucking her head against his shoulder. A few waves of her wand and muttered incantations are enough to make the dishes fly to the sink and turn their hardwood chairs into a more comfortable sofa that moves away from the table where they ate. "But we're their parents – don't tell we you never pulled the same things on your own parents when you were their age."

"I never did any of this," Molly lies, shaking her head. "I'll have you know that I was a model daughter and never did anything wrong."

"Before you met me you mean," Arthur jokes.

"Before I met you," Molly nods. "Best worst decision of my life," she adds, her voice warm and laughing, snuggling against him.

"Besides," Arthur continues after a short silence, "this just proves that they love you."

Molly rolls her eyes. "I know, and Merlin knows I love them too, but you're my husband. I think that means we deserve the right to some… action. Honestly, how do those boys think they were conceived in the first place?"

Arthur lets out a bark of laughter, short but joyous. "I honestly think that they try not to ask themselves that question, Molly. I know I wouldn't, in their place."

"You're probably right."

They stay quiet for a while, the only sounds the soft swishes of water and clicks of dishware coming from the sink behind them and the sharp crackles coming from the fireplace.

After a while, Molly untangles herself and gets up.

"You know… There are no children here tonight," she suggests with a wink.

Arthur's eyes suddenly turn interested. "Oh? And what did you have in mind?"

"Well… We could go to bed now, and sleep somewhere more comfortable than on a transformed sofa that'll probably turn back at some point in the middle of the night…" she trails off, moving slowly toward their bedroom.

She barely makes it a few steps before Arthur's arms wrap around her middle, his warm breath tickling her ear as he whispers into it, sending shivers down her spine. "Or?"

"Or, we could go to bed, and have some… action."

"That is a great idea," Arthur compliments, letting her go.

And it truly is. One of Molly's best.

Here's to hoping they won't get another ginger terror to look after in nine months though, is Molly's last thought for a while that night.

They both see stars without leaving their home that night.


End file.
